


Morosexuals, the lot of you

by OutOfHerMind



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Jedi!padmé, Reverse roles, Slow Burn, i mean kinda, ok so not really, senator!anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24485269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfHerMind/pseuds/OutOfHerMind
Summary: Padme was prepared for yet another sleezy senator. Instead she is met with an Anakin Skywalker who is much more... tall then she remembered. Too bad he hates her guts and she feels too guilty to really hate him back. Will sparks fly, or will padawan Padme Naberrie sock a senator right in the nose? Who knows!Basically a Padme/Anakin role reversalWill add more tags once I actually figure out what's going on!
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I haven't figured out what happened in episode 1 OR what happens after episode 2 except some fun clone wars stuff (YES Ahsoka will be here... eventually... or maybe in another fic who knows? I don't)  
> I see Padme as being just as passionate as a jedi as she was a senator... just now she is allowed to diss the rules!  
> Enjoy!

Padme shifted incessantly as the lift brought both master and apprentice closer to the Coruscant apartment.

“Why so nervous my young padawan? Not use to using an elevator instead of being carelessly flung up here by padawan Offee? Might I add, Master Luminara was _not_ pleased by your childishness at the temple. I for one was happy you retrieved my teapot before Quinlan did anything else with it.”

Padme gave him a withering glare as she straightened her tunic and quieted her shuffling feet.

“No master, I’m more than capable of using a lift, thank you very much. I’m just dreading our mission.”

Obi-wan gave her a surprised glance.

“Well, this is a surprise. You’re never one to back down from a dangerous situation.”

Padme heaved a great sigh, amusing Obi-wan with her dramatics.

“It’s not the mission I’m worried about. It’s the company we will be keeping”

With that admonition, the lift doors opened to a lavishly decorated apartment that overlooked the city. Padme gave these no mind as she stepped to the center of the room and turned to face her master.

“Last time I saw the Senator he was… quite fascinated with me. I highly doubt he remembers, but I’ve dealt with far too many sleezy senators that remember my youth, and let me tell you, that’s not an experience I enjoy repeating.” Padme wrung her hands as she walked over to the vanity, gingerly picking up a strange, intricately carved piece of wood.

Obi-wan just smiled as he observed his headstrong padawan. She was never one to keep her opinions from being known, and while he appreciated her honesty, he did not condone the confrontation that usual ensued.

“I wouldn’t worry about that Padme. I’m sure Senator Skywalker doesn’t even remember your name.”

She looked unconvinced, gently tracing the chip of wood as if it held the secrets to getting out of this situation that did not include jumping headfirst out the window.

“Please don’t touch that.”

Padme jumped and nearly sent the whole display toppling over as she came face to face with a severe looking twi’lek woman.

“Uh—um I’m so sorry, let me just—” She gently placed the wood down and stepped away from the woman to stand shoulder to shoulder with an amused Obi-wan.

“Shut up” She grumbled.

“Why my young padawan, I didn’t say a word!”

A deep, warm voice spoke from the entrance of the room. “Ana’la, that’s not how we treat out guests! Now my would-be-assassins? You can scold them all you’d like!”

Senator Anakin Skywalker strode into the room, a charming smile gracing his handsome face as he made his way to the pair.

“Greetings Master Kenobi! I see you still rock those jedi robes. I like the beard.”

Obi-wan gave a dry chuckle as he stroked his iconic facial hair. “Thank you Senator Skywalker I worked very hard on it.”

“Call me Anakin, please.”

With that, he turned his bright blue eyes on Padme, who had been standing shell shocked for the entirety of their conversation. He was tall. And handsome. Padme wasn’t prepared for that. She half expected that same child to come skipping out, jabbering on about pod-racing and angels and mechanics. Instead she was met with this large stranger who was charming and had _such_ a _deep voice_ , _and—_

“Padme. You look as radiant as ever.” He remarked, taking her hand and gripping it gently. Her mind dwelled too long on the fact that it was more of a hand _hug_ then a shake, but—

“You’re very tall. Um—by that I mean, you’re uh. You are much taller than I _remember,_ that is. Because you were a kid, like of course you weren’t _tall,_ and you had that stupid little bowl cut and—I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Anakin let out an amused laugh as he released her hand, (much to Padme’s great displeasure).

“Yes, I’m quite proud of the fact that I’m no longer ten. Though I think I could rock that haircut now. It wasn’t _that_ stupid, was it?”

Padme let her burning face drop into her hands, in a very unprofessional display, and let out a groan.

“No, it wasn’t _that_ bad.” She mumbled; words muffled by her hands.

Obi-wan sends her a “ _What in the ever-loving Force are you doing?”_ look that sends Padme even deeper into her hands, too embarrassed to continue existing.

“What my padawan _meant_ to say is: You’ve grown quite a bit. I’m glad to see that you have worked very hard to achieve your status and health.”

Anakin pulled his eyes from the blushing mess with a pleased grin, and thanked Obi-wan for his comments.

“I’ve worked very hard to be where I am today. I’m just happy to see that I’ve mostly brought Tatooine here with me.”

At the mention of his home planet, the grin slowly slipped as he prepared to discuss the assassination attempts with the Jedi. Padme lifted her head as the pleasant air slowly seeped away, regaining some of her composure back.

“Unfortunately, Tatooine is not quite there yet. Due to me inducing Tatooine to the Republic, the slave trade has nearly been abolished, and no longer is it a den of scum and villainy. Almost. Come, sit before we delve into uncomfortable subjects. Would either of you like refreshments?”

Both Jedi decline as they retire to the wrap-around couch housed in the center of the apartment. Anakin asked Ana’la for a strong drink as he sat. Padme could see Anakin play host to the high and mighty here, as Coruscant traffic continues below, easily seen from the floor to ceiling windows that led to a beautiful balcony.

The senator had a crinkle in his brow—one Padme very strangely wanted to smooth—as he continued the topic of Tatooine.

“While most of the smugglers and bounty hunters have been driven from the cities, Jabba the Hutt still resides just outside Mos Eisley, and shows no sign of fleeing the planet. Due to a variety of legal reasons, we can’t just kick him off. Even though it is intensely obvious that he is the scum of the planet, we can’t get a solid case on him.”

Padme scoffed, causing Obi-wan to preemptively gain a few gray hairs from the upcoming argument.

“Are you serious? That sleemo has slave girls on his arm 24/7! I find it hard to believe that you can’t do anything about him!”

Anakin’s gaze darkened as he clenched his hands.

“I _can’t_ do anything about him without breaking the newfound laws of the planet! Would you like me to discredit myself and _personally_ float that slimeball into the oblivion of space? Because while that sounds _just grand,_ I _can’t_ without the Senate personally kicking me out of office! I would appreciate it if you saw my perspective, _padawan_ Naberrie.” Anakin shot back with venom

Padme’s nostrils flared as Skywalker angrily berated her, prepared to go into an angry tirade on how he was a no good little _nerf-herder—_

“Alright, enough with the personal vendettas you two!” Obi-wan scolds, efficiently shutting down any arguments from them, if not for the sake of his sanity, then for the mission. “Senator we are well aware of your situation. The Hutt cartel have placed a bounty on your head and the best of the best have come out from the wood works to kill you. Am I missing anything?”

A successfully cowed Anakin shook his head, no longer glowering at Padme. She could _not_ say the same. He may be handsome, and tall, and _yes_ that scar really worked for him, but like any other senator, he still felt the rules of the senate to be the word of the force. That rubbed Padme the wrong way. The senate kept real change from being done, feeding their pockets instead of helping those in need. She was disappointed that Anakin forgot how helpless he must have felt when the republic refused to help him as a child on Tatooine. When Qui-gon, Obi-wan and _she_ did not help him. Her anger dissipated as she softened her gaze.

_Kriff._

He had no right to be so cordial towards them. They did nothing for him. Just gave him false hope that he could remain free and left him on his own to try and free his mother. Why was he being so kind? Padme didn’t take him as the “let bygones be bygones” type. She watched the Senator regale Obi-wan with this morning’s incident and noticed that his gaze was not as warm as she previously thought it to be. That crinkle didn’t disappear as Obi-wan promised to keep him safe. Hell, it even _deepened_ when Obi-wan laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

_Kriff._

Padme was so distracted with his entrance that she paid no attention to the force surrounding them. Now she could feel the emotions that swirled around the group, especially the powerful aura that radiated from him. With dawning understanding, Padme gazed out the window to witness the beautiful day. He might have agreed to protection, but one thing was abundantly clear:

Anakin Skywalker kriffing hated them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padme talk. And shamelessly flirt. Well, Anakin flirts and Padme tries to keep her dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got excited and decided to write the new chapter instead of pacing myself  
> Updates will probably not be as quick as this one

Anakin Skywalker was NOT having a good day.

First: He spilled caf all over his brand-new shoes. Those were _high_ quality boots that he got from a retailer based in Naboo, and they cost a fortune. Now Anakin isn’t one to needlessly waste his money; he learned to save from a young age in order to get enough credits to free his mother and give them a good life. He decided to splurge a little after having his newest anti-smuggling bill pass in the senate. He bought himself a fashionable pair of boots and got his mother a brand-new poncho from a Tatooinian shop owner on Coruscant. The look of pure happiness on her face was worth every credit. While they had a bad life of Tatooine, it was still home, and the culture was the very core of their being.

Second: He was almost assassinated. Now that wasn’t a very nice experience, in his opinion. On top of that, he had to wear that _awful,_ stiff outfit of a guard as a disguise. Not that it did any good as his _entire_ ship was blown to oblivion. He didn’t appreciate the bruises that now lined his very _being,_ and the marks it left on his crew. Luckily no one was killed, but Ana’la did _not_ enjoy having shrapnel in her lekku. Anakin was able to round up bacta patches to give her some relief, but the pain did nothing for her already austere demeaner.

Third: _They_ were protecting him. He wanted protection, yes, but not from _them._ The bodyguards in question were none other than Jedi master Obi-wan Kenobi and padawan Padme Naberrie, the very people who left him to rot on Tatooine nearly ten years ago. Never mind the fact that Padme was the object of his few good dreams. She left him to suffer. Sure, she had gone behind her master’s backs to free him, but the fact that she left his mother a slave still remains. He was naïve enough to trust her on the sole basis that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Anakin still remembered the moment he saw her in the crowded streets, dusty and sweaty and grumpy. He swears his heart stopped then and there. _An angel. She’s come to save us._ He offered his home to these strangers in hopes of his freedom. He may have gotten that, but without his mother being safe and sound, he’d never truly be free.

Anakin was shaken from his thoughts as he entered the lift, dread and anger creeping up his spine. He was _not_ in the mood to deal with the Jedi.

“Everything alright senator?” Ana’la gave him a concerned look. “Usually you brush off near death experiences with an ill-advised quip at your own expense.”

“I’m fine. I am just not looking forward to dealing with Jedi. They have _no_ sense of style.”

She gave an unprofessional snort as he satisfied her curiosity.

Ana’la was a wonderful assistant and friend. She was a slave of Watto’s, her varied skillset saving her from the greater trade of “desirable” slaves. She helped Anakin his mechanic shop flourish after he freed her. Ana’la’s unwavering resolve helped turn the small shop into a tech empire, catering to security and leisure across the galaxy. After he was elected senator and admitted Tatooine into the Republic, he brought her along as backup, just in case some rich fool tried to intimidate him. Ana’la was handy with both a wrench and a blaster.

The lift doors opened far too quickly for Anakin’s liking. He squared his shoulders and started forward, entering the main room behind Ana’la. She stiffened as she noticed a young woman messing with Anakin’s trinkets from home, and immediately demanded she ceased messing around. Anakin leaned against the doorframe and took in the scene as the padawan whirled around in shock.

His breath stuttered and his heart raced at the sight of Padme Naberrie, now ten years older.

_Oh, kriffing hell. I’m fucked._

…..

Padme sat uncomfortably on the couch as her master and the senator continued to set the parameters of the mission. How could she be so blind? She needs to practice sensing people’s emotions, a skill she was severely lacking. She was compassionate, sure, but the emphasis on _passion_ meant she sometimes raced full speed ahead trying to fix everyone’s problems instead of observing the situation, like Obi-wan.

A beep sounded from Obi-wan’s hip, disturbing Padme’s train of thought.

“Excuse me senator, I must take this. Padme, do try to be pleasant to our gracious host.” With that embarrassing reminder, Obi-wan exited the room, most likely to talk to a council member. Maybe he had just been alerted to a new update to his favorite holodrama, _Boring Men Talk About the State of the Galaxy_.

Anakin leaned back and studied Padme. Unwilling to be intimidated, Padme stared quietly back, giving his appearance a slow once over to show she was unimpressed. Which was an absolute lie. His flowing, Tatooinian tunic was an ombre of crème white to a light pink, the fine fabrics cutting a formidable figure with a broad chest and powerful legs. She couldn’t make out his arms with the flowing sleeves that cinched at the wrist, but his hands looked surprisingly callused, probably due to his hard upbringing. He looked like he could hold up in a fight. Albeit a fight with youngling would lean in his favor, but not much else. Good. She could tell that she may fight him in the upcoming days. It was that _stupid_ smirk that played on his lips, and she could just tell that he was about to say something very annoying. That attraction she felt for him all but fell away and she scowled at him, daring him to say a word.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember.” He stated simply.

She blinked; annoyance forgotten as she took in the statement. So much for not being flustered by the man. “Oh, um—thank you.”

“Too bad you’re just as annoying as I remember as well.”

Stars, why did everything have to be an emotional rollercoaster with him?

She kept her composure, willing her skin not to flush. Unsuccessfully. “I could say the same for you.”

“Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?”

“Do I think you’re about attractive as a snotty nosed little kid? Yes.”

“Padawan Naberrie that’s quite an inappropriate stance to hold.”

“Senator, to think that’s what I was implying is highly unprofessional. Are you sure your apart of the senate? No _senator_ should think such things.”

Anakin let out a hearty laugh. “Are you sure you were meant for the Jedi life? I feel you could make big waves in the senate.”

Padme scoffed in derision. “And limit myself to the rules and regulations made by stuffy politicians? Never. I’d rather be out really _helping_ the galaxy instead of sitting in pretty apartments drinking wine and ignoring the real world.”

“Aren’t you a Jedi? Don’t the Jedi serve the Republic? If you look hard enough, you’ll find that you are just as constrained as I.” He looked at her meaningfully. “Though I doubt your one to question authority.”

Oh, now he was _really_ getting on her nerves.

“Ah, yes, I _never_ question authority. The girl who constantly fought for the freedom of a little boy on a hellish planet never _once_ questioned the Republic’s stance on non-republican planets. She never ONCE went behind her masters’ backs to make a bet that could cost them their mission _just_ so that a boy could have his freedom.” She angrily looked out the window. “You’re right, _she_ did _nothing_.”

The silence stretched across the room like the plague, seeping into the corners and making Padme very uncomfortable. Did she go too far? Bringing up someone’s past as a slave was never a good move, and yet she went there.

She risked a glance at the senator. His eyes bore into her like a hot poker, expression stony and unreadable. Unable to hold those blue eyes any longer she ducked her head in shame. This is what Obi-wan always warned her about: One day she would go too far in her opinion, and it would bite her in the ass.

“I never thanked you for that.” Her head whipped up in surprise at his quiet confession. His eyes were soft as he regarded her. “I hope Kenobi didn’t yell at you too much.”

She laughed at that, tugging her padawan braid as she shifted in her seat. “He actually gave me the idea. He would’ve done it himself, but Master Jinn needed him to hunt that Sith.” Her smile dimmed as she remembered her master’s death. “He may have seemed cold, but Master Jinn was the closest thing to a father I ever had. He took me as a padawan when no one thought I was capable, because I was so old when I was found. I’m sorry we couldn’t help you more.”

She earnestly looked him in the eye, hoping he saw her sincerity. Leaving Anakin behind had left her chest cold, guilty that she couldn’t do more. That ate away at her for years.

Anakin let out a breath. “It mattered that you helped. I was able to start a business, free my mother, even progress Tatooine to the point where it was a viable—legal—port of technology.” He glanced away. “But it was hard. It was painful. I used my anger for the Jedi to build something important.” He again locked eyes with Padme, this time all conflict was gone. He looked at her like he did all those years ago. Like she was an oasis in the middle of the desert, and he had been walking for days. It was disconcerting when he was a child. Now it was…

“I used what I felt for _you_ to build something that could last centuries.”

She could no longer quell her blush as he intently stared at her. She was not used to people being so bold. She oftentimes felt alone in her passion, but as she held Anakin’s gaze, she felt an instant connection. This was… _dangerous_.

“Sorry for the delay, I just had to talk with Master Windu about a different case… am I interrupting something?” Master Kenobi entered, followed closely by Ana’la, looking at the pair’s strange staring contest in confusion.

Padme’s stood up like she was a marionette whose master had just had a seizure; shaky and sudden, she jumped away from the couch.

“NOTHING! It was—uh just a, uh heated argument, you know me! Always stirring up trouble! Any whose, I’m gonna, uh go get some air ok bye!” She rushed out to the balcony at breakneck speed.

Obi-wan looked at Anakin funny. “Some argument.”

Ana’la looked at Anakin knowingly. “Yeah. _Some_ argument.”

He had the decency to blush.

…..

Padme leaned on the balcony railing, attempting to seek solace in the bite of the cold air that rustled through her freshly cut hair. She no longer felt comfortable with long hair after it was grabbed one too many times. Unsuccessful in her endeavor, she studied the bustling city below her. Anakin somehow knew _exactly_ how to get under her skin. Yet she could not find the power to dislike him. He was putting her in a dodgy situation. Jedi were not supposed to create such attachments. Jedi were supposed to be in control of their emotions. She was already failing the latter: So how was Anakin Skywalker able to make her fail yet again?

“And here I thought you just _couldn’t_ be pleasant and silent for once.”

All at once, Padme’s turbulent confliction took a swan dive off the balcony to an untimely death in the streets below.

“And here I thought you just _couldn’t_ be more of an insufferable brat.”

Anakin sidled up to her at the railing, a mirthless laugh lost to the wind as he stared at the night sky.

“You have to step up the insults, you sound more like a youngling then a Jedi learner.”

Padme huffed as she shoved off from the balcony. “Stars, I try to give you space for _one_ second—”

Anakin lightly grabbed forearm as she spun away, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m sorry. Let us enjoy the view. I’d rather not be stuck with the two spoilsports in there, I mean how severe can they _be?_ ” He joked as he tugged her back to the railing. “I’d rather spend time with a beautiful Jedi than Mr. mullet in there.” His grin was soft and teasing, and she allowed herself to give him a small smile in return.

“You don’t give Obi-wan enough credit. Every mission we go on there’s always at least one individual to swoon over him.” She laughed again as she remembered their last endeavor. “The king of an outer rim planet touched his knee _one_ too many times for Obi-wan’s liking.”

Anakin’s laugh was contagious as they furtively giggled, heads nearing closer as he snorted.

“Yeah who couldn’t _resist_ those gorgeous eyes?” Anakin giggled again, imagining the scene ending with an unusually flustered Obi-wan.

“Now don’t you go crushing on my master, senator. He’s much too professional for things such as _emotions._ ”

He laughed again, letting the comfortable silence sit for a moment. The stars were all but gone due to the light pollution, but there was a strange beauty to the winding spaceship lanes heading off planet.

“What about you?”

Padme met his eyes with a crinkle in her brow.

“What about me?”

“What do you feel about emotions? Attachments? Love?” The last question was barley a whisper, making it seem like a big taboo. She supposed it was.

Padme stroked her chin (an unfortunate habit picked up from Obi-wan) as she considered his query.

“I believe it has its merits. I love Obi-wan like a brother, and our bond makes us a formidable team.” She returned her hand to the balcony, treacherously close to Anakin’s as she finally met his gaze. “But I see how attachment can be… dangerous.”

His pinky brushed her own. “Oh?” he breathed. “What’s more dangerous than a barrage of blaster fire and impending doom?” He eyes burned into her.

Her heartbeat faster as they drew closer and _closer_.

_What am I doing?_

“Hmm. Maybe it’s more dangerous to be too vulnerable with someone. They could easily spread the secret that a Jedi has a _heart._ ” Was he looking at her lips? Was she looking at his? Oh, stars, _what was she doing?_

“A good fear to have. Maybe I should start avoiding people more.”

“If you want to avoid people so bad, _why do you keep bothering me?_ ” she dared to whisper.

His entire left side was pressed to hers as his hand covered her own, effectively stopping her very breath.

“Maybe I _like_ the danger.” His breath fanned out across her cheeks as she allowed her eyes to close, leaning in to just _barely_ touch his lips—

“Padme? Anakin? Where are you?”

Padme shoved the senator away as she shot up straight, face beet red. Anakin landed on his ass with a _whump,_ letting out a yelp of pain at the sudden assault.

Obi-wan eyebrows shot up, then furrowed in anger as he witnessed the scene play out.

“ _Padawan,_ I was under the impression we were here to _protect_ the senator, not _assault_ him. Do I need to send you back to the temple?” Obi-wan demanded, disappointment and anger oozing across their force bond. Padme shrank from his gaze as Anakin stood, dusting himself off and rubbing his bruised tailbone.

“No need Master Kenobi, I was egging her on.” He placed his hand over his heart in a dramatic fashion. “I promise to be good from now on. I do wish padawan Naberrie to stay, she keeps things exciting.”

Obi-wan frowned but nodded as Padme gawked at Anakin. She had basically assaulted the man, and still he bore no ill will? What was _with_ this guy? Her heart still beat frantically as she battled with her fear and—wait, was that excitement? _Desire?_ Oh, stars she was _so_ screwed.

“Very well senator, thank you for your input.” He turned his attention to Padme, clearly emoting the sense _we will talk about this later._ “Senator, if you would like to retire to your room now, my padawan and I will gladly stand post outside your room.”

Anakin sensed that this was less of a suggestion and more of an order, choosing to simply nod to the Jedi Master and enter the apartment.

Obi-wan stared holes into his beloved padawan.

“Padme. I think it’s high time we talked.”

Padme spent no energy in contain her weak groan.

_Kriff._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Padme are two very passionate people, so I wanted them to have that fun love/hate relationship


End file.
